Dancing Through the Ages
by Iona Nineve
Summary: Jo asks Henry to accompany her to a dance. Henry digs deep into the past and might just find the future there, at least so Abe hopes. Jo, after much discomfort, finds comfort in a new place.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Author's Note: This was originally planned to be a oneshot, but the first half was a bit rambly and it detracted from the second half so I split it up. So bear with me it gets better, I promise. Also, this was not planned as a Henry/Jo fic, but Abe came into my head and opened his mouth then the last episode happened, so read as ****you will. **

**Sorry, that was rambling. Second chapter will be soon. Hope you enjoy, and please review.**

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Dancing Through the Ages

The door to the shop opened. "Hey, Abe. Is Henry in?"

"Yeah, he's-"

"Good morning, Detective." Henry greeted, leaning around a large curio. "New case?"

"No. Sorry to disappoint. I need your help."

"Ahh! Finally. What can we do for you? You know, its about time you buy something after dropping in so much." Abe said, earning him a disapproving glare from Henry that went unnoticed.

Smiling at the last statement Jo explained her presence. "I'm not here for that either, sorry. A friend gave me these tickets to a masquerade-type ball. People dress up in period clothing."

"Which period?" Henry asked.

"Any. I don't know which yet; which is where you come in, the resident expert on the historical. Any suggestions?" The two men looked her over, thoughtfully.

"Regency era?" Henry suggested, looking to Abe.

"She got the figure for it."

Ignoring having her figure commented on by a 70 year old man, it was at least innocent and she'd heard worse as a female cop, she asked. "When is that?"

"1810 to around 1840. I know where to get such a dress made if you need it, also for your partner."

"And that brings us to the other reason I'm here. You see, I don't really have a partner, since Isaac and I... And was hoping I could take you?"

Henry looked as though he'd been hit by a brick wall. "Pardon?"

"Or you could take me, whichever is more proper. Its just that I thought you'd like it and I don't really have anyone else to ask."

"Thank you for the consideration, Detective."

"But you're going to say no." She said for him, crestfallen. This wasn't really her thing but it sounded fun.

"On the contrary, it sounds quite enjoyable and I would love to accompany you."

"Offer still stand on the dress?" He nodded. "Nothing too fancy, I don't have that much to spend."

"Nonsense, my treat."

"God bless English manners! Thank you, Henry. Its in 12 days."

He bowed his head in nodding recognition. "I shall be seeing you tomorrow, then, Detective."

"See ya', Henry." She said, opening the door. "Bye, Abe."

Abe waved, while Jo left. Once the door had closed he let out a guffaw of mirth. "hey, dad!" henry looked over to him. "You're going on a date! You've got a date! Are you going to kiss? Should I be disgusted?" Abe teased gleefully.

"Abraham!" Henry chastised sternly. "It's just as friends."

"Fine, believe whatever you want. Just remember not everyone is as blatant as mom. Most women don't just come up and suggest to someone she just met that they fall in love and adopt an orphaned infant."

'"No, indeed, that was quite unique of Abigail." Henry said, smiling at the memory. "For God's sake, Jo's a widow still in mourning."

"And you're a.. whatever you are, eternally in mourning."

"She simply needed someone to go with and thought I would enjoy it, as she said."

"You really need to get out, Henry. And if going to a ball dressed as your old self starts that journey, good thing."

"Do you remember that woman who came in looking for antique buttons, the one who makes historical clothing? I think we still have her card."

"Red-head, short, skinny?" Henry nodded. "Its in the left hand section of the cash register."

Henry went over, retrieved the card then disappeared into the corners of the shop.

Abe approached to find Henry searching drawers. Stopping only to leave and head to the stairs to the second floor. "Henry, what are you looking for?"

"I actually still have a suit from the regency era. It should be around here somewhere."

"You have a suit that's 200 years old and you're going to wear it dancing?" Abe asked, his tone one of horror as the antiques dealer in him came out.

"Its been very well kept, I assure you." He reached the top of the stairs and halted in his tracks. "Ahh! Mothballs of course!" Then he rushed back down the stairs and to the second set of steps, leading to his laboratory. Momentarily frozen in befuddlement, Abe descended the few steps he had climbed and continued down to the basement where Henry was moving boxes stacked in a corner."You keep it in the basement?"

"Yes." He said, not diverting his attention from the task at hand. "Here it is!" He exclaimed, dragging into the light a steamer trunk of some age.

"Why do you still have an outfit from 200 years ago? And how, might I ask?"

"Well, I do keep a few things from time to time, and I wasn't about to let you sell it all." Henry replied, mysteriously, unlatching and flinging the trunk open. The smell of cedar and mothballs emanated profusely from the open trunk. A blanket covered the contents on one side. Unlatching the division covering of the other side, as Henry removed the blanket, Abe found a black beaver skin top hat.

"Hey, I remember this!" He said, holding it out.

Looking up from his own search, Henry smiled at the sight of the hat. "You should, it went on top of every snowman we made."

Glancing around the divider, Abe saw the white garment on top. Henry's hand rested lovingly upon the cloth. "Is that mom's wedding dress?"

"Yes. She was so beautiful in it. Do you remember it, the wedding?"

"No, I was an infant. But in the pictures I always thought she looked like an angel."

Henry gently lifted the dress, and placed it in his lap. "She certainly did." He smiled.

Still looking at Henry's side of the trunk, Abe saw what had been placed underneath it.

"That's your redcross uniform, isn't it?" He asked referring to the uncovered khaki-green outfit.

"Indeed it is. Infact, the very one in which I met you and Abigail. And if memory serves..." He lifted the uniform, and put it down beside him on the floor, to reveal under it a pale two piece outfit. Taking the pieces, he handed them to Abe. "Notice the crest on the pocket."

Abe inspected the embroidered crest, then looked up in astonishment of his father. "This.. this is from the Titanic!" He nodded. "You were on the Titanic?"

"Its a long story, perhaps some other time." Looking down into the delayered trunk he saw that which he had been searching for. "I knew it was here." He began removing article upon article until a full man's regency attire was stacked beside him. "I was sure that the great coat would be with the rest of it." He said slightly disappointed.

"Is it a cloak with sleeves?" Abe asked, pulling out a large amount of fabric from its neatly tucked away place among the hats and shoes.

"Sort of. Do you have it there?" Abe held it up for him to see. "Yes, that's it."

"I'm not even going to ask about the Titanic, no matter how much I want to. But I will ask again, why do you still have this?"

"You might say it represented a new life. It was the first good suit I acquired after I escaped from the asylum Nora sent me to." He placed a hand upon the stack. "A bit shabby, but 'tis to be expected." Before going to bed, Henry laid the suit to air out. The tail coat and cravat were dark green with cream waist coat and pants.

The next morning, before leaving, Henry retrieved the business card from the counter and put it in his pocket. At the morgue there were bodies waiting for him, none of any suspicious causes. "Morning, Henry?"

"Good morning Detective."

"Anything interesting for me today?"

"I'm afraid not. But I do have something for you." He reached into his pocket and offered her the business card. "Its a woman who makes historical clothing."

"Thanks, Henry." She said hesitantly, taking the card. "But the thing is, I'm really bad at dress shopping. When Sean and I were getting married I wanted to wear a blouse and a nice skirt, but I was dragged to a bridal store and I wanted to buy the first dress I saw just to get out of there. Besides I have no idea what this is supposed to look like."

"Would you like me come?"

"Yes, please."

"We'll go during lunch."

"Its a date." She said, leaving the morgue to catch up on paperwork and pray for something interesting to happen. Lunch time couldn't have come more slowly, but it came, through stacks of paperwork it came. "Ready, Henry?"

"Yes." Henry said, wrapping his scarf around his neck. He had spent the last several hours also going through extraneous files, and was eager to escape.

They walked into the small shop, where they were greeted by a young woman standing behind the counter. "May I help you?"

"Yes, good afternoon. We are here to discuss a dress."

"You look familiar." She began drawing nearer to the pair. "You're... Henry, from the antique shop." He nodded in affirmation. "What era are you looking for?"

"Regency." Jo said uncertainty in her tone.

"Any particular decade or year?" She asked. The question came as a pleasant surprise to him, not expecting attention to such details. Jo was absolutely dumbfounded by it."Late 1810's, early 1820's." Henry answered for her.

"Are you two going to the Ages Ball?"

"Yeah." Jo answered.

"There's always a welcome boom in business when it comes around. Do you have any specifics you want?" She asked, scanning a shelf of reference books arranged by year.

"Just so it's simple, nothing extravagant."

"That's not a problem with regency, particularly for women." She pulled down a few binders. "Probably the only era where clothing was more elaborate for men than for women." Henry allowed himself a small smile at the memory of the London dandies of London." If you'd come to the back with me, I have to take some measurements."

Jo looked extremely uncomfortable, giving a begging glance toward Henry as she went with the shopkeeper anyway. While he waited he opened one of the binders to find printouts of old fashion catalogues. He found himself remembering the times he had been dragged to the dress seamstress by Nora.

"Thanks for the help, Henry."Jo said to him under her breath upon her return.

"I was confident that you were fully capable of protecting yourself against a measuring tape." He retorted, tauntingly.

"Any specifics, color maybe?"

"Umm..." Jo blanked, looking to Henry for help once more.

"A light green; with cream accents: and a minimal overdress." He provided with some authority in his manner.

"Sounds like like it will be beautiful. Do you already have a suit?"

"Yes, I do. It's-"

Cutting him f, Jo continued to raise her eyebrows in questioning interest. "Women's shoes from the '60's, Chanel no. 5, and now a practiced for color and a knowledge of of 19th century clothing? Something you're not telling me, Henry?"

"My fir-former girlfriend had a fondness for period clothing?" He half lied; Nora had been very fond of clothes, from her own period of course

"Sounds like the perfect girl for you. What went wrong?"

"We had a um..." he cleared his throat, "falling out of sorts."

"Well, if you'd leave your number I'll call when its ready for a fitting." The young store owner told Jo when she returned to the front of the store.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing as always.**

**Author's Note: Here it is, the moment we've all been waiting for. I want to thank all of you for the follows, favs, and reviews! So I hope you enjoy this chapter even more than the last. And again, please review.**

~_11 days later_~

"This is ridiculous! I only tied one of these everyday for fifty years." Henry exclaimed in frustration, continuing his futile attempts to tie the dark green silken cravat about his neck.

"Don't look at me, those are fifty years of experience I don't got." Abe responded, as he watched his father's struggle with great amusement. "Stop thinking about it so much and just let your fingers do the work. They know what they're doing even if you don't."

Cravat tied and its ends tucked neatly under the waistcoat, Henry turned his attention to the matching in color double-breasted tail coat. "All ready. We should pick up the Detective." He declared, pulling on a pair of white gloves.

"When you're out with Jo tonight, do try to use her actual name once or twice."

Abe advised, a laugh tinting his tone. "Come on, let's go. We don't want you late for your date."

Henry replied only with a disapproving glance. "I know, I know. It's not a date." Abe covered, eyes rolling in exasperation.

"I saw that." Henry warned.

"Just get into the car, would you." The following car ride was spent mostly in silence. When Abe pulled up in front of the detective's home, Henry exited the passenger side door. Knocking on the door, he waited for it to open. After a few minutes Jo joined him on the step. Her dress was of a pale green satin, the sheer cream overdress began at the short sleeves and flowed gracefully to the hem where a simple grecian design had been woven in gold, the high waist was cinched with a sash of dark green.

"You look beautiful." He said, struck nearly dumb by the sight.

"Stop, Henry. You don't have to be that polite."

"No, truly, Detective. You look lovely." He reiterated, offering his arm.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Darcy," She said, sliding her gloved arm into his, and they descended to the waiting car. Henry smiled, slightly baffled by her address. "I feel like I just stepped out of a Jane Austen novel." She explained as he opened the back door for her.

After a dinner spent trying not to get food on her dress, and avoiding involvement in the conversation on the trans-Atlantic relations of the Civil War that Henry and the other couple at the table were holding, the band began to play more lively music. Although louder and faster than the music during dinner it was still slow. The change in tempo held no meaning for her but obviously it meant something to everyone else, including Henry. He stood and presented his hand . "Might I have this dance?"

"I'm not very good at dancing." She warned, hesitating.

"That's not a problem, Detective." He assured. It would indeed not be a problem, his dancing skill was, though rusty, more than enough to compensate for a less than graceful partner.

"Okay. But I've warned you." She said, placing her hand into his proffered left. He led her to the dance floor, where a few couples had already begun the slow waltzing steps. Swinging her around to face him, Henry guided her left hand to rest on his shoulder before placing his right onto the small of her back. Pulled close into the intimate posture of dance, Jo was surrounded by the warmth of him, and she could feel the warmth of his hand through the gloves. She looked up into his face to find a crooked smile there. "Don't do anything too complicated. Kay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it." He stated, his smile widening to sly. With that less than comforting assurance he began to dance, slow enough for her to catch the rhythm of the steps at first then gradually increasing in pace to match the song. Soon they were gliding across the floor with an ease that surprised her. His footing was so sure, so smooth and effortless that her own not so graceful steps somehow fell into place around his.

Without having to think very much about her feet, she was free to consider her surroundings. Most immediately those surroundings included Henry, in his perfectly fitting suit, he looked so at home and more relaxed than she had ever seen him. "This suits you."

"Pardon? Whatever gave you that impression?"

"You look so at home. You were lying on that one case, weren't you. This is the life you were born to, isn't it?"

"Where could you have possibly gotten such an idea?"

She was about to answer with indignance when the music stopped and the muffled polite clap of gloved hands rose from the couples. New music began, faster and more spirited. She was swung into the dance with a suddenness that left her speechless, a truly unusual sensation. If before they had been gliding before now they flew around the dance floor, her feet barely touching the ground.

"Its a polka.' He explained, briefly slowing to exaggerate the simple tristep. After momentary concentration she picked up the step and they continued, slightly less impeded. At the end of the song the music slowed and Henry's step followed suit returning to a waltz.

"We didn't stop between songs?"

"Ball etiquette includes a pause after the first song to acknowledge the orchestra. after which songs are played continuously."

"How do you know all this?" She asked, her awe less hidden than she would have liked.

"Experience, I suppose." He answered shortly, unrevealing as per-usual.

"Why do you avoid all talk of you past?"

"Do I?" He replied, a tone of evasive surprise inserted into his voice.

"Yeah, you do." She said, trying to build up a level of frustration, despite the soothing effect of the music and motion. "Tell me this much, at least. How does a man raised in a world like this end up in New York as an ME?"

'A world like this' how little she knew how close to the truth that was. He thought a moment, considering what exactly to say. "A ship."

Jo let out a short exasperated breath accompanied by a 'you have got to be joking' look. Henry's face had hardened since the turn in conversation, the wall which had been tumbling now erected once more. "Okay. No more questions. Promise."

"Thank you. It is greatly appreciated." With that polite finish he once again relaxed into the peace of the came a cotillion, which Jo stumbled through following those around her. She was unaccustomed to the sensation of having little control and not knowing what to do. By the end of the song she found herself once again in Henry's steadfast arms, a stronghold of comfort, she had not felt so safe in a man's arms since Sean. Then the music turned to a more vigorous polka than the last. During the dance he had lifted her into the air, swinging her round before placing her back down upon the earth and without a missed step continuing on. She had let out a rather undignified squeal at the action and was laughing by the time her feet reached the floor. He was laughing as well when she met his eye. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Can you do you it again?" She cut his needless apology short, still giggling gleefully. After a short deep chuckle and a few preparatory steps he fulfilled her request. When the music slowed toward the end they stopped, him breathing deeply while she gasped for air. "Can we... take a break now?" She asked, between gasps.

"Yes, of course." He allowed, escorting her to their table. Shortly after othey sat down the music changed; slow, high and sweet. "It's a minuet. It's been ages since I danced a minuet." His face lit up as he recognized the melody, but his smile grew wistful when he turned to where she sat exhausted.

"Go ahead, dance."

"But you-"

"Don't mind me. That lady looks just itching to dance this." She said, pointing out a woman in garb of the late 1700's sitting crestfallenly with and extremely out of breath msn."If you insist." He thanked before heading toward the woman. "Might I offer myself for this dance?"

"Thank you, sir. It would be my pleasure." They moved onto the floor. Most couples had returned to their seats, some remained confused by the music. They bowed forward next to each other, then proceeded with the delicate pattern of the dance. The woman's attire added to his stirring memories of dancing with his mother, who had taught him the ,nuuminuet. "You're very good." She complimented, pulling him back into the present. "Where did you learn?"

"England." He replied, his automatic answer. He was silent for a moment, pondering the impression of modern England that his eccentricities were giving to the NYPD. When the dance ended he took her hand and bowed to kiss it. "It has been an honor." Then he returned to Jo, who was now recovered.

"That was beautiful, in a simple way." She observed as they continued into a waltz.

"Yes, I suppose it is." He agreed. Around them there were couples, many of them dressed from eras. In his own unusually long life. Despite the proximity to his secret, this situation was calming and comfortable. A ball, somewhere his antiquated mannerisms were not out of place, where what had been a major part of his earliest of lives, dance, was appreciated. He had been more himself, as much as he could be, in these last few hours with Jo than he had been with anyone, but Abe, since Abigail. Looking at Jo's face, he saw a relaxed smile. All of the tension which usually filled her, and had been present earlier, had dissipated. "You're a fast learner, Detective."

Then, as if fate aimed to prove him wrong, Jo's foot fell on his own. "Sorry!"

"It's fine." He assured, letting out an amused breath caused by her brief reddening.

"I'm not trying to pry, but I have to ask. Where did you learn to dance like this?" She asked, wide-eyed and genuinely curious for his answer.

"My mother taught me." He answered truthfully and simply.

The next song was fast, upbeat, and the most modern of all the music yet played. "It's jazz." Jo identified; expecting Henry to stiffen in disapproval, but his step just altered into an exuberant fast steps in a rocking motion.

"Not quite, it's swing." He explained at little length. Then surprising her by throwing her out on the last word, pulling her back to him with a tug of the hand which still held her own.

She returned flying into him, stopped from collision only by his catching hand. "You're full of surprises, Henry Morgan!" She exclaimed, pleasantly shocked by the unexpected action.

"I hope never to become boring."

"And you're in no danger of that." She asserted, her humorous laughs continuing. As the song progressed he guided her through a series of turns and spins. Jo was surprised by Henry's uncharacteristic spontaneity and energy, never had she imagined the man capable of such as this.

A Few hours later they were still to be found on the dance floor. She had grown tired and now rested her head on his shoulder, her feet now performing the steps automatically. Careful not to disturb the half-sleeping Jo, Henry glanced at his pocket watch for the time. "Jo?" He prompted gently.

"Hmm?" She responded, contentedly shifting her head on his shoulder to look at him.

"It's late, Abraham will be waiting for us."

"Yeah, of course. We should be leaving." She perked slightly as she spoke. They left, him nodding a farewell to the Civil War era couple. As he had expected, Abe had the car waiting for them.

"I do hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Nah, just got here." Abe answered. "So, how was it?"

"Extremely enjoyable." Henry answered, a happy smile growing on his lips as he said.

"Wow! Thats a positively glowing report coming from you." Abe marveled. They stopped first at Jo's house. Henry moved to exit but Abe interrupted him. "No, I'll get her." He then proceeded to escort Jo to her door, she still remained only half-awake. When they reached the door he turned to face her. "How did your evening go, then?"

"It was... informative."

"You actually got Henry to talk and open up a bit?" He asked, surprised by her success. "What did you find out?""

"Well, he was born rich, he came to America on a ship, and his mom taught him to dance." She stated, aware of how little was considered a breakthrough when dealing with the enigma known as Doctor Henry Morgan. "Also he can swing dance, which came as a surprise."

"You're good for him, you know. Good night."

"Goodnight." She said sleepily, as she opened her door and entered her home. Returning to the car, he found Henry fast asleep in the back seat.

**Author's Note continued: Eventually I hope to get around to some spinoff explanation fics, because the world needs more dancing Henry. Thank you so much for reading!**


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